Or, How I Spent My Summer Vacation, Part One: Severe Testicular Injuries.
General content warning: this post discusses medical stuff that some people might find squicky. Possibly men in particular. As if they needed more reasons to not read this blog!
Last Sunday was a pretty damn perfect day. It was my wedding anniversary—FOUR MORE YEARS! It was also the last weekend before my little brother (who lives with us) leaves for a life-changingly awesome two-month working vacation overseas.
So we drove into the Big City to celebrate. We marveled at nature’s weird-ass creations at the local aquarium. Afterwards we ate an obscene amount of oysters, shrimp, scallops, and hot buttered lobster rolls. Then we drove home and laid out in the king-size hammock in the backyard, reading The Subtle Knife aloud to each other. The air was warm; the world was still; and the late-afternoon light was hazy and golden. It was a perfect day.
And then all hell broke loose.
Sidenote: dafuq are scrotums even doing out here?
Have you ever watched someone fold like a fainting goat after a hit to the balls and wondered, “huh, it seems like a design flaw that such a delicate body part is just hanging outside the body like that”?
Well, ancient lifeforms agree with you! Gonads (testes and ovaries) used to be kept inside, with the rest of our organs. You know, where organs belong. But at some point in our evolution, we decided that temperature regulation was more important than protection, and our little bodies were too hot for ideal baby batter storage. So they migrated down.
When each of us was an embryo, our testes or ovaries developed inside our chests. So around the seventh month of our development inside the womb, our reproductive organs suddenly shoot down through our mostly-developed bodies to their final resting place in the lower abdomen. Why the seventh month, when the body is basically damn-near fully formed? IDK, man. Bodies are weird. Nothing makes sense.
That means that the walls separating the abdomen and sex organs are weak—especially with testes, which must move much farther than ovaries. These weak walls can eventually fail, allowing body tissues to exit the chocolate pudding section of the Kid Cuisine tray and pop over to visit the macaroni and cheese section.
And just like the commingling of pudding and pasta, the results are very bad. My brother had what’s called an inguinal hernia, meaning, a loop of his intestine had pushed out into his scrotal sac.
“Suddenly it just felt like someone kicked me in the rocks, and they never took their foot away!”
My little brother is an amazingly cheerful person. He’s sporty and athletic (I cannot relate), and handles injuries pretty stoically. But as we drove to the emergency room, he transformed. His face was grey. He started shaking and sweating. Eventually his whole body was overcome with trembling, and he began vomiting from the pure pain.
At this point the hernia was what’s called “incarcerated.” Basically the loop of intestine was caught too tightly in the hole of the hernia, and was being deprived of blood flow, and slowly strangling and dying. Google Image that shit, if you dare!
Doctors made three attempts to nudge the intestinal loop back inside, with no success. During these, my baby bro was on three doses of fentanyl and still writhing in agony. After the third failed attempt, they called in an emergency surgical team. He was on the operating table forty minutes later.
His surgeon told me that, in all of her career, she’s never had a patient whose first words upon waking up were “I feel so much better.” After a few days in the hospital recovering, he was able to come home, with a brand new prosthetic mesh to keep his guts from ever fraternizing with his junk again.
What should you do if you think you need to go to the ER?
When in doubt, go
When the surgeons opened him up, they found the loop of intestine was blue from lack of circulation. As soon as they freed it, it pinked back up within a few minutes. If it hadn’t, he would’ve needed much more extensive surgery to cut out the dead section and resection his bowels back together.
He was lucky. His situation would’ve been MUCH worse had he waited even another hour to go to the hospital.
The fear of a large hospital bill makes a lot of people think twice about going to the emergency room. And in some ways, that’s good! Many small ailments and minor complaints aren’t worth the trip. But you know your body. If something feels really wrong, go immediately. The cost (in money, quality of life, and time) can balloon quickly if you resist going when you really need to.
I repeat: yes, the emergency room can be expensive. Scary expensive. Especially if you don’t have health insurance. But debts can be negotiated, paid down, mitigated, avoided, altered, discharged. Not so with health. Money is ephemeral; but bitch, your body is the one and only throne of your soul. Take care of that shit.
If you don’t need an ambulance, don’t take an ambulance
Ambulances are not medical taxis. They’re emergency transport for people whose lives are at immediate risk. They’re the ideal transportation to call for people who cannot move without risk of injury, or who need the immediate attention of EMTs, or whose situation is so precarious that waiting for traffic would cause further harm.
Given this, you should avoid calling an ambulance when you don’t really need one. Riding in an ambulance is enormously expensive. A short ride can easily cost four figures, and your insurance is going to be extremely picky about what constitutes a “medical necessity.”
Now, use your sense. If you are in serious pain, or feeling lightheaded, or panicked, it is a terrible idea to try to drive a car. Ask a friend, family member, neighbor, or coworker to drive you. Or call a cab or ride share.
And if someone else calls an ambulance for you out of concern, and you don’t want to take it, you don’t have to. You know yourself. I’ve had strangers call 911 on my behalf when I suddenly fainted. Now, good on them. They have no way of knowing that I have low blood pressure—a basically benign condition—and that fainting is just a normal thing I do sometimes. If I got in an ambulance every time it happened, I’d be a Victorian-Era ragamuffin with dirt smudged on my face, wringing my bonnet, calling “Alms, alms for the poor!”
Figure out which emergency rooms near you accept your insurance
You can’t look that shit up when you’re doubled-over, vomiting from pain. And the difference between in-network and out-of-network coverage can be a $1,000 copay versus a $5,000 copay. It’s HUGE. And unfortunately, it can be a tricky situation depending on the kind of care you need. Read this article and think of how nice it would be if we didn’t expect each and every American to be an expert in labyrinthine medical billing procedures.
If you don’t know the closest emergency room that accepts your insurance, stop what you’re doing and look it up right now. And then resume what you’re doing, because you’re reading our blog and we like that.
Know what to bring
If you need to go to the emergency room, you should try your best to bring the following:
- Insurance card
- A fucking sweater—no, seriously, every ER I’ve ever been in has felt like Mr. Freeze’s meat locker in the basement of Dante’s Hell
- Names of medications currently taking
- Known allergies to food or medication
- Emergency contact’s information
Nice to Have
- Your phone and a phone charger
- Tissues (helpful for sneezing, coughing, crying, and puke cleanup)
- Coins (there are usually vending machines—but don’t eat until given permission)
- Something to do (see below)
- A second fucking sweater—I was sent from the future to warn you
Keep yourself sane
I’ve spent many days and nights in hospital waiting rooms, and what I’ve found is: it’s both extremely stressful and extremely boring. This combination can drive you insane. Especially when the only TV in the waiting room is blasting the Disney Channel at an unignorable volume. (Related: did you know that there’s a sequel to That’s So Raven where Raven Symone plays a divorced mother of two, and seems to be in a low-key lesbian relationship with her other divorced friend, and also one of her kids inherited her psychic ability? I watched six consecutive episodes while the surgery went on worryingly long, and it was definitely a void-gazing-back situation.)
Whether you’re a patient or a visitor, much of your time there will be spent waiting for the next thing to happen. So find something that will help you make time pass as quickly as possible. The things I like to bring occupy my hands and my mind, but in a passive/meditative way. Some people like books, but I personally have a hard time reading in times of stress; I’ll read several pages without absorbing any information at all.
- Jigsaw puzzles
- Coloring books
- Handheld game systems
- Nail polish (only if you’re alone b/c smell)
- Headphones for music, podcasts, movies
Avoid bringing expensive things like laptops, and always keep your phone, wallet, or game system on your person. It’s sad to say, but the moment you turn your back, they will get stolen.
Take it from me. Someone once stole my bag of coloring books from an ICU waiting room. I guess they hoped there would be something better at the bottom. Or, I don’t know, they were in a dark place and needed to color in a hurry, and after sizing me up, decided I did not look inclined to share, even though I totally was.
Advocate for yourself
This is general advice for medical situations: be prepared to advocate for yourself. If you don’t understand what’s going on, ask questions. Speak up if you’re not comfortable. If you are super bad at this kind of thing, call your pushiest friend to come help you.
I had a horrible emergency room experience once where the (male) doctor insisted I was having an ectopic pregnancy—no matter how many times I insisted that I’d never had PIV sex in my life. He completely disregarded my words and insisted I take a pregnancy test. When it came back negative, he made me take it again because he still didn’t believe me.
Paying that emergency room bill was one of my bitterest expenses, ever. I was young and alone, and I was used to doing what authorities told me to do. I wish I’d known I was well within my rights to refuse.
Just try like hell to not go
Please, please listen to your Internet Grandma on this point. Be a good boy or girl or nonbinary individual and perform preventative maintenance on your body.
My little brother knew he had a hernia, and at his last annual, his doctor said it was probably time to get it fixed. He had a loose plan to do so after arriving back home from his two-month trip. But when he gets back, he’ll also be moving, and applying for jobs, and hanging out with friends, and it’s easy to imagine that he’d put it off for one reason or another. I know I’ve certainly done similar things in the past. Who hasn’t?
Let this scary tale of scream-and-punch-the-wall scrote pain be a lesson to us all. Take advantage of all the annual medical maintenance opportunities already built into the cost of your insurance. Don’t put off the recommendations they make. Eat well, exercise, wear your seat belt every single time, and try not to do dumb shit with fireworks or power tools or dildos or snapping turtles. The emergency room isn’t fun, and it isn’t a cheap date.
I wish I could say my vacation got better after this. Unfortunately, it got worse… but don’t worry. Blogging is the act of spinning shit into gold! Or if not gold, some kind of protective covering to help keep the shit off of others.
More medical advice and tales of woe:
- Your Yearly Free Medical Care Checklist
- Financial Lessons Learned from a Night in the ER
- How Mental Health Affects Your Finances
- Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics
- Dafuq Is Insurance and Why Do You Even Need It?
Inviting your emergency room horror stories in the comments!